


The Holiday

by MissInComplete



Series: The MollCroft Papers [9]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Anthea (Sherlock) is the Best PA, Established Molly Hooper/Mycroft Holmes, F/M, MollCroft fluff, Mollcroft, Molly Hooper Appreciation, Mycroft Being Mycroft, Mycroft Feels, Mycroft is a good husband, Mycroft is afraid, Snarky Mycroft, mycroft fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-20 01:35:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9469604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissInComplete/pseuds/MissInComplete
Summary: Mycroft has agreed to go on holiday with Molly but he hasn't been entirely open with her.MollCroft fluff





	

Sitting in the back of the long black car Molly glanced across at her husband. A small smile graced her lips as she took in the stern expression on his face, tightness of his eyes and thin line of his lips.  
Her eyes slowly crept down his frame to his thick woollen overcoat and his three-piece suit what sat beneath it. Dark blue, royal blue, navy, whatever Saville Row coined it, with a tie to match and white shirt. She knew a little further down was a golden chain and a pocket watch tucked in a small pocket.  
He looked every bit as formidable as any opponent would assume.  
Her smile grew when she considered just how open this man was being if they could see how tightly her had a grip on her hand on the seat between them, and how hard his thumb was brushing over hers as he lost himself inside his own mind-place, no not palace. Sherlock, the ever dramatic, had a palace. Mycroft’s… well, Mycroft once admitted to her it was more of a prison. Her heart ached a little when she reached the conclusion, from the small snippet answers he had given her, that he was so scared of making mistakes and letting out the wrong information that he had, even his mind, locked tight so mistakes were few and far between. He would never refer to his mind-prison openly, she just knew the look and knew when he’d ventured inside for some information or some form of escape.  
Definitely a little escapism today, Molly looked down at their hands and squeezed a little. He gave no sign of recognition other than the thumb stopped brushing only to continue a moment later.  
She’d never tell him, but she did feel terrible for him. He was here in this situation because of her and for her. He hadn’t even taken much swaying really. A few hints and google searches of holiday destinations and he had had Anthea bring round some brochures of the destinations she’d been looking at while he was at the office.  
Anthea had raised an eyebrow and smirked. “I don’t know how you’ve done it.” She commented, not for the first time to Molly. No, the first time she had said it was when she had been set to collect Molly Hooper from her flat for date. Molly’s response now was still the same as then, those six years ago, “I have no idea either, but I’ll try to keep it up.”  
She had decided on Mexico to be her holiday choice and when Mycroft had come home that night she greeted him with a brandy and sat with him in his home office in front of the fire, rubbing his shoulders telling him of all the wonderful things there. He had stopped her mid-sentence, “Molly, we will go wherever you wish, my dear. My only request, and I must insist, is that I pick the hotel.” With no doubt in his taste Molly happily agreed to the condition and kissed him soundly on the mouth. 

So here they were on their way, not to the airport, but to the private hospital to have the necessary round of injections but they could fly. Now usually, as with his private affairs, Mycroft avoided most of the red tape, but as this was a commercial holiday in a commercial hotel, the usual rules applied. He wasn’t just nipping in for a visit with the leader of the free world and flying back out in a few hours, no, Molly had managed to get him to agree to two whole weeks in another country with almost no work. The agreement was that he takes an hour each day for an update with Anthea and he would still disappear if a major emergency arose. 

And this was how Molly Holmes nee Hooper discovered that her husband, Mycroft The-British-Government Holmes was afraid of needles. 

She almost wanted to laugh when it surfaced.  
“Mycroft?” Molly called out into the house as she hung up her coat. “Mrs Abbey?” She checked her watch, 10:15pm, Mrs Abbey may be back at her annex by now, Mrs Abbey was the housekeeper at the elder Holmes estate who lived just out of the main house in an apartment.  
“Good evening Mrs Holmes.” Long had Molly tried to get her to call her just ‘Molly’. “Mr Holmes has retired to bed for the evening, only a moment ago though, he said he intended to read until you got home safely.” 

“Ah, Thank you.” Molly smiled warmly and made her way up the stairs, “Good night, Mrs Abbey.” She opened the door to the master room and saw Mycroft had placed a book on the bedside table and the door to the double ensuite was open. She heard the shower running and decided to join her husband. She stripped off, dropping her washing into the basket just inside the door and slide the shower door open revealing a very naked and very wet Mycroft. She had hoped to surprise him but it seems, as always, he was one step ahead of her and as soon as the door had shut behind her he had her pinned to the shower wall, covering her body with his and locking his lips to hers.  
Once he pulled away, she could see a smug smirk on his features, “Hello wife.” A shiver of delight passed through Molly, that would never get old. 

“Husband,” She kissed him once more and then reached for the sponge and soap, lathering it up and began to work along his body. “How was your day?” 

He made a noise of discord and took the sponge from Molly, “The PM is choosing to ignore the only sensible suggestion given at the last meeting and go ahead with the previous plans as if nothing has changed in hope that his ignorance to the problems means they won’t arise.” Molly frowned, Mycroft was never wrong so she understood that he was now having to plan the inevitable bail-the-PM-out scheme and make sure it didn’t cause a war. She never knew the intricate details but over the years he had taken to giving her the roundabouts of the situations in current events and more often than not she knew a little more about people than he did, offering a little light when he found people just unmanageable.

“No chance of talking him round with breakfast and polite flattery?” Molly took the shower head down and washed the bubbles off of Mycroft and then herself.

“Perhaps,” Mycroft considered his wife’s naked figure as she opened the door and gathered to towel robes from the hooks. “That will be plan A and taking place first thing tomorrow morning. Plan B has already been set in motion and will be in place just in case.” Mycroft sat on the edge of the bed and Molly collected a small towel and began to dry his legs.

“Are you free for lunch tomorrow?”

Mycroft raised an eyebrow and considered her, a smirk crept up as she met his gazed from between his knees, “You and I both know that you have already spoken to Anthea and you have already arranged my diary so I am free around lunch for a few hours.” 

‘Hmm, maybe,” She blushed a little and leaned up to kiss him. “That and with the holiday next month we have to make time for the Inoculations so I’ve asked Anthea to book that for tomorrow lunch time too.” She kissed him but when he didn’t respond, Molly pulled back and frowned, “That’s okay, isn’t it? It just meant instead trying to make time twice- Mycroft?” She could see the vein in his neck pumping a little harder and he gulped a little. “Anthea did advise me not to mention it but I couldn’t work out why and she wouldn’t say but I figured taking you by surprise would have been worse? Mycroft- you worrying me a little.” She placed her hand on his forehead and then stroked his cheek. 

He cleared his throat and lifted his chin, “Apologies, my dear.” He cleared his throat again and looked away, a small blush crept up his chest and to his cheeks. “I’m, that is.. Needles-“

Molly stared, dumbfounded at her husband, and then it dawned on her. He was afraid of needles. “You’re afra-“

“Not a fan.” He told her sternly, meeting her eyes. “Just. Not a fan. That’s all.” He stood up and offered his hand to Molly to do the same. She said nothing but gave him a small smile. “Anthea knows this and yes, her method when the need occurs has always been to surprise me with it and then I haven’t had time to make excuses or think about it.” Molly made a small ‘O’ with her mouth, no real sound came out, “Not to worry, my dear. It is only tomorrow.” He kissed her lips and held her close, leading them to the bed for some night time distraction.  
That morning he had been up and out early to get to breakfast with the PM so Molly hadn’t had any real opportunity to gauge how he was feeling about the appointment before lunch later but a text of Anthea told her that she should be on top form because wasn’t in a good mood. 

The car had collected Molly from their house and she had tried to ask how the meeting with the PM had gone Anthea had already told her it had ended in Mycroft shouting at one of the other advisors but all he was giving was short answers so she let them fall into silence, offering her hand between them which Mycroft took instantly. 

So here they were.  
The car pulled to a stop outside the private hospital just outside the city centre and the driver opened Mycroft’s door and then Mycroft went around the Molly, offering his hand and helping her to her feet. They went inside and were greeted by a nurse who smiled and lead them into a large room just down the corridor. The room had two beds in, a sofa, two large desks one of which was empty except for a laptop and an array of equipment set out. She left after announcing she and the doctor would be back shortly. 

Mycroft gave a nod and removed his outer coat, Molly did the same, hanging them both on the coat stand. She reached her Mycroft’s hand and brought it to her mouth, kissing him palm. She had no idea how to help a scared Mycroft. He didn’t do scared, even when a gun was pointed at him. He gave her a small smile and brushed her lip with his thumb, quickly dropping it as the sound of the tap on the door.  
“Mr and Mrs Holmes,” A small plump cheery woman came in with a big smile, “I’m Dora, I’ll be taking care of you today. Mr Holmes if you could take a seat first and roll up your sleeves.” 

“Thank you Miss…?” Mycroft asked, beginning to remove his blazer and sit in the chair, he’d be damned if anyone but Molly and Anthea knew he was as terrified as he were. 

“Oh no, call me Dora please.” She bustled about the trays setting out the equipment efficiently.

Molly saw Mycroft stiffen and decided to try and help him feel more at ease; there was no way he could relax if he wasn’t in charge and there was no way he could be in charge and formal if Dora insisted on breaking down these barriers. “Dora? If you don’t mind me asking, what is your last name? I’m sure I recognise you….” Molly offered. She was now seated just a little to his left. She saw him shoot a glance to her and the slightest incline of his head. 

“Johnson.” Dora eyed Molly with a smile, as if trying to place her. “I’ve been in practice here for 35 years, odds are we’ve crossed paths at some point. Small world and all that.” She beamed. 

“That must be it.” Molly said politely. Dora reached for Mycroft’s sleeve and rolled it up once move. If Mycroft wasn’t the epitome of self-control Molly was pretty sure such an act of informality and familiarity would have resulted in some barked insult. Lucky for Dora. she had a job to do and seemed oblivious to her patient’s obvious discomfort. “I’ll take your bloods first and then we’ll take a short break and do the injections.” 

Molly opened her mouth to disagree but in that split second Mycroft had worked out that Anthea had arranged this appointment and, yes when looking at the dates he was due a full blood count. He clenched his jaw but spoke softly, “Anthea.” Molly shut hers with an audible click and Dora looked confused at the exchange but said nothing.  
“If you could relax your arm, Mycroft.” She began to unpeel his fist, “May I call you Mycroft?”

“No.” He stated and flattened his hand. Molly blushed, and turned her eyes elsewhere, wishing the ground would swallow her up.  
“Okay,” Dora was unfazed by his abruptness and continued, “You need to relax Mr Holmes or we’ll never get the needle in.”  
“I am relaxed,” He answered quietly through gritted teeth.  
“Okay,” Dora said again, as though she wasn’t listening, “Let’s talk about something else,” She continued to prep the needle and little pots. “What do you do for work Mr Holmes?” 

“Classified.” Mycroft snapped over Molly as she answered, “For the government,” But Molly continued, “Small position really, nothing major.” Dora looked perplexed but had gotten the needle in final.  
“There we are, let’s just swap pots…” Mycroft became more agitated as she fiddled around, “Let’s keep talking, ay? Mr Holmes seems more at ease that way-“ 

More at ease? Fine, if she wants to chat, “How’s the husband?” Mycroft asked casual, with a smile that showed his teeth. The swift change in tactic hadn’t gone unnoticed. Oh god, Molly’s inside churned, what is he doing?! 

“Not married, Mr Holmes, not so lucky as yourself.” Dora wiggled her wedding finger for effect. 

“Oh I know, let me be clearer, I meant how is the married man you’re sleeping with?” He looked up at her through his lashed, an eye brow raised, a smug smile on his lips.  
Dora’s eye widened and her mouth opened and closed indignantly. “Mycroft?” Molly hissed, “I’m sorry Dora, he just- he didn’t mean. - “  
And with that Dora left the room, leaving a needle in Mycroft’s arm and 6 pots of blood to go. 

“Just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Molly muttered as she stood up and continued to take the bloods and remove the needle.  
“You could have done this in the first place?” Mycroft asked, watching her organised and label the bloods. “Why didn’t you? I would have-“

“Just because I know something doesn’t mean I should use it – maybe you should consider that too.” She told him pointedly. “It isn’t my job; I just happen to know how this works. Plus, I couldn’t take my own bloods. Hold still.”

Twenty minutes later and 3 injections for Mycroft, he kissed her on the lips and practically ran out of the room. He’d called Anthea and after a few minutes of scolding he had her arrange an apology bouquet be sent to Dora Johnson. 

Molly sighed and was attended to by another nurse who made quick work of her task and sent her on her way after she explained, vaguely, the situation.

Molly wouldn’t insist on another holiday unless Mycroft chose the location.


End file.
